


Potential

by Anonymous



Category: good omens rpf
Genre: F/M, M/M, Might as well be me, Multi, Polyamory, someone was going to write RPF for this fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 14:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19478053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "Have you thought about—" She strokes a fingertip down over his chest in unmistakable meaning. "With Michael?"





	Potential

**Author's Note:**

> Standard RPF disclaimer: This is made up and didn't happen and I'm not trying to imply it did.
> 
> OMG this fandom disclaimer: a) Georgia Tennant stop googling your husband and b) Michael Sheen please don't tell anyone if you read this.

Georgia waits until they're drowsing before she springs it on him – because that's what she likes, to catch him off balance when he's post-coital and quiet.

"Have you thought about—" She strokes a fingertip down over his chest in unmistakable meaning. "With Michael?"

David groans. This is the problem with loving someone who knows you too well. 

"You needn't, of course," Georgia says. "Not if you don't want to."

"Oh, hush," David says, burying his face in her hair. "You know I want to." Who could avoid wanting to, when it was Michael? He was charming and funny and sweet – practically an angel on earth, albeit one who was competitive at poker and occasionally farted in the dressing room.

"Mmm." She sounds entirely too pleased with herself. "So I do."

"You're a mean, mean woman, Georgia Tennant."

"Good thing I know a man who likes mean women."

David lifts his head. "Really?" he says. "Who is it, then? I'll give him a call and offload you immediately."

She laughs out loud, startled, and oh, how he loves that laugh. More than anything in the world.

"It's Michael," she said. "I'm calling him myself."

"No pushing," David warns, because that's the rule. She can suggest, but the final decision is his, of course. Even if he wants it (even if he _really_ wants it), he still gets to say no. 

"Sorry."

"It's all right," he says. "If I decide to ask him and he says he prefers pretty, mean women, I'll send him your way."

Georgia's penitent expression turns into a golden smile. "Ever so kind of you," she says, and then, "I suppose you don't even know if he likes men."

"He does," David says without thinking, and then groans at her raised eyebrows. "Not— we didn't talk about it like that. He mentioned someone, that's all. Someone he didn't end up seeing."

"Someone we know?"

"Don't think so," says David. "He didn't give a name, but it didn't seem purposeful. Not as if he didn't want to tell me, just that he didn't think to." He can remember the moment vividly, the two of them on the park bench between shots, Michael in his pale vest and jacket with his bow tie, his legs parted just a little more than Aziraphale's would have been, leaning in so that they could talk quietly.

God, David had wanted him then. Wanted to put his hand in Michael's too-blond hair and bite at the soft place below his ear and have those blue eyes turned heatedly on him. He'd come away from that moment with new character insight as to how Crowley loved Aziraphale, that's for certain.

"I think I deserve an Oscar for not pushing right now," Georgia says. "Given the look on your face."

David shoves at her, but he's smiling. "Go to sleep, dearest. You can tease me more in the morning." Georgia grins but pulls up the blankets, giving him one last kiss before closing her eyes.


End file.
